You aren't alone
by ItsMe3000
Summary: Loki falls from the Bifrost with the intention of ceasing his suffering. However, through a cruel twist of fate he ends up the puppet of a madman. Sent to Midgard with one objective and the plague of insanity, could a girl with a tortured past and some strange band of misfits help him see the light?
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys. So to quickly explain, this story is most definitely not cannon with what happens in the Avengers film. This story will follow Loki's point of view from when he falls from the Bifrost, and also the pov of another character - Aether - who is similar to Loki. In what ways? Read to find out :))**

Chapter 1:

***Loki's P.O.V***

I hung at the edge of Asgard, gripping Gungnir with all the strength my weak and now white-knuckled hands would allow. The radiant spear was all that now tethered me to the foul, golden realm. As my weary hands began to fail me, sliding down to the tip of the spear and closer to the void, I allowed my throat to choke out pained words.

"I could've done it father!"

I panted heavily. My frail body struggling to hold onto my 'home planet'.

"For_ you_..."

But he shook his head. The Allfather. As if he was saying for the final time that I wasn't worthy. Of neither the throne, the right to respect from Asgard, nor the right to call him father...

And that's when I realised: I was nothing. My greatest fears had come true. I had never meant anything to those like Odin. Just by thinking of his name made something gather in my throat. Pain. I looked at Thor for some signs of affection - that he believed otherwise, that I was his brother, that I wasn't just a stolen relic, that I wasn't just a Jotun that deserved to be starved of affection - but there was naught. Looking into his blue eyes, I recalled the painful memories I had of Asgard..

_I was ridiculed my entire life. I was mocked for practicing magic. I was beaten by those who saw me only by my weak and bony body. And fa- Odin - ignored it. I was always writhing in Thor's shadow. My talent was always starved of the light of everyone's appreciation. But I was ignored. Even when the dwarves had seen my mouth shut - at the tender and foolish age of about 14 centuries - I was chided and punished further. This place bore no love for me. It never has. _

And with that, I decided to let go. I fell into the void. My arms felt limp and lifeless, my eyes glazing over with final unshed tears as I watched Odin's solemn and tense face go slack. As if all the muscles in his body ... relaxed..

I continued to fall through the darkness, hoping upon hope that my lungs would stop, that my racing heart would come to a halt. But ... it didn't. Instead, I fell into the realm of the Mad Titan and the Chitari...

***Aether's P.O.V***

My frail heart was racing. Blow after blow came crashing down upon my torn and bruised skin. I felt bones break beneath the weight of my father's leg. I shouldn't even call him that ab anymore, but that was irrelevant right now. If I stay here, cornered in this tiny apartment, I'm going to die. I looked out the window for a split second, and saw the stars glittering in the perfectly tranquil cloak of night. I wish I could've been born as a star - the whimsical and childish part of my mind thought - and not as a cursed wretch on Earth. Another blow to my head jolted my brain back to my prior conclusion - escape. I had no other choice but to use my magic. Focusing my spirit into my spell, I mumbled inaudibly and prepared for my freedom. My timing had to be precise. If it wasn't, the spell could miss, or only be partially effective,and I wouldn't have enough energy to cast it again. I breathed heavily... counted five seconds ... and then casted the spell. It was a little too effective for a knock-back spell: the vile man staggered several metres across the old wooden floors, and fell out of the open window.

I whimpered. My hands shook infront of my eyes, my mind refusing to believe what they had done. Even though he was guilty of many crimes, doesn't mean he deserved death. Nevertheless, I was free. I needed to get out of this apartment.

I tried to hold myself up, but cracking noises and surging pain soon snuffed out that idea. I collapsed on my knees. I began to crawl my way out the door, and down the stone stairs. My knees were quivering with ever step, but I carried on moving. By the time I reached the bottom, my vision was incredibly blurry, and was rapidly worsening. The edges of my mind began to darken, and I felt as though the unwelcome but slightly dampened sleep of death was falling upon my. I came up to a building, and before my mind went black completely, I pressed a button of the door..


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey so sorry for the few typos :/**

**Anyways, thank you to Horizonte for following this story, and to anyone who viewed it. Any criticism is greatly appreciated :)))**

Chapter 2:

***Loki's P.O.V***

I landed on the barren lifeless planes habited by the Chitari. My body swelled with pain as blood seeped out of cuts laced across my skin. Freshly forming bruises began to paint my back with deep purples. I attempted to stand, only to fall feebly on my stomach. Winded, my attempts to speak were replaced with agonizing wheezes. I reached out a tentative hand at a dark figure that was fast approaching, but my mind went completely black and I faded into the cold sleep of unconsciousness.

*******Time Skip********

My eyes flitted open momentarily, but they did not see the golden and blindingly bright buildings of Asgard. I forced them closed, and hoped that I was mistaken, that I simply had a bad dream and I was still asleep.

_That must be it! _I thought, since the lighting was so dark and my vision so blurry. I attempted to raise my arm and pinch myself, but my hands felt like lead and stung with excruciating pain. I then realised I wasn't standing on my legs.. I tried to move my head, but the back of my neck was met with ice cold stone. I panicked. Fear began to surge through my veins, and I started to thrash uncontrollably. It was no use. I went limp and began to pant in order to regain my lost energy. When my vision had completely recovered,I looked around. I heard a muffled and sinister laugh echoing from the far corner of what appeared to be the dungeon I was in. The figure seemed to realised I was aware of their presence, and began to walk towards me. As he emerged from the shadows, the malevolent look in his eyes became clearer. With every step he took, the ground seemed to tremble almost in terror. Once he was less than a metre infront of me, he grunted in amusement at how his head towered massively over my diminutive and chained heap of a body. When he finally spoke,his voice was deep and gravelly, and sent fear racing through every nerve in my brain. I recognized the Titan from ancient legends tucked away in the library on Asgard. Thanos...

"A little Jotun runt . . ."

I gulped at the phrase. My usually cocky and sly demeanour was slipping away from me, but I did my best to plaster over it.

" . . . abandoned even by those who stole him"

My lips began to quiver. The foul man snickered. I looked away, not wanting to face my captor, and my eyes caught sight of a slender dagger in his hand. The tip oozed with a thick, blue translucent liquid that reeked of death. My eyes widened massively as I watched the little drips burn small holes in the rough stone flooring. _What that could do to me . . . _I dreaded to think. But I couldn't be broken so easily. After all, I am Loki: Prince, God of Lies, Silvertoungue. I would not be broken.

The giant raised the blade, its polished edge glinting in the mild light streaming from a hole in the wall. He brought it down, tracing deep gashes across my skin. The venom scorched my flesh, and I was resisting the urge to writhe in agony. As the torture progressed, I felt my mind slowly unraveling. My facade of confidence and control waning, as my mind slipped in and out of the realms of consciousness. I blacked out several times during the torture, and each time I woke I was horrified that I didn't find myself in the loving arms of Frigga, or with Thor knocking at my bedroom door. Each time I woke, new pains latched onto my skin. Lashes, bruises, blood smears. I was being moulded into a being of pain.

***Aether's P.O.V***

I awoke to unbearable pain rushing through every limb in my body. My head pounded with restless thoughts and I tentatively raised a finger to feel my forehead. I jerked back at the sharp pain, and in doing so hit the back of my head on a wall of some sorts.

"Owwwwwwwww!" I cried. I decided not to move since I was practically incapable of doing anything without hurting myself. I looked around the room, and realized that I wasn't in my apartment. I wasn't home and I wasn't with my fath- No. . . No it can't be. That can't have been real. I can't have used my magic and - NO! I didn't... I wouldn't... He was a bad man, to the point it was almost impossible to call him a man. But I shouldn't - couldn't - have killed him. A single tear rolled down my cheek. Many more clear droplets followed suite, and soon I was practically bawling at the top of my lungs. I _was_ happy to be free finally, but I didn't expect it to come at such a cost. And the trauma seems to already have scarred my mind...

My thoughts were finally broken by a man flinging the door to the room I was in wide open.

"Jeez are you ok?!" The man asked, obviously startled by my wailing.

I recognized the unique beard and face shape. But... It couldn't _really _be him ... Could it?

"Hello? Anybody home? If you aren't gonna reply, I'll stop wasting my hospitality on y-"

"No wait!" I replied. "I was jus- I mean I was confu- ... ARE YOU TONY STARK?!" I finally managed to choke the words out. The man stared at me with unblinking eyes.

"Well... Yes that would be me" he quickly regained his composure, then proceeded to introduce himself with his usual overly self-confident and charismatic manner of speaking, "Tony Stark, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. At your service." He comically bowed at the foot of the bed I was resting on.

"Now that you finally know the name of your saviour," he smiled, but then let it fade from his face," why don't you tell me where the hell you've been? You collapsed right outside my door with several broken bones. Dr Banner had a hard time getting you into the infirmary, even as the other guy. He kept mumbling something about you have depleted energy levels, and your brain function is abnormally high..."

I was dumbfounded. I couldn't explain to _the_ Tony Stark my abusive family. I tried my best to avoid the truth, but with each excuse he merely gave me a look as if to say "really?". When I finally got round to explaining my story, he was shocked, mouth hanging wide open.

"Jeez I know _my_ dad was bad but... I'm terribly sorry. Do you have any other relatives you can stay with?"

I shook my head. He paced around the room, bearing a contemplative air. He decided that I could stay in a room in Stark tower until he found me somewhere else to stay. I breathed a small sigh of relief, but my happiness quickly melted away when Tony asked me to clarify the whole "magic" thing. This conversation obviously wouldn't end well...


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey special thanks to Volcanostar-Kun for reviewing and to abbynormal315 for following :)))**

**The criticism of those who read my story would be very much appreciated, so feel free to leave comments on what you think of the previous chapters (e.g what you did/didn't like), or even ideas on where you think the story could go next :)**

**Anyways, back to the story**

Chapter 3:

***Loki's P.O.V***

After the torture, my mind felt...strangely simple in terms of emotion and objectives. The voices in my head that used to war with one another, fighting and shrieking to be heard over the muffled chaos of my overall decisions, were silent... The voices do not like being silent. The voices cannot _stand_ being silent. The voices want _release._ From pain, anguish, emptiness. Release cannot be achieved in _silence._ The voices _couldn't_ let themselves fall silent, and just _die._ But they were, and they did - well nothing about Loki _really_ died. The strange new sensation of calm quelling the raging torrents of juxtaposing thoughts put me in a position of unease. It was distasteful, like a veneer giving the impression of polished oak wood covering barely stable plastic furniture. But that didn't matter anymore: I had only one objective. I had to follow it through. I had no other choice...

_The plan was simple: Go to Earth with the Mind stone within the Chitauri staff. Take the Tesseract to obtain the Space stone. Bring forth the Chitauri army. Enslave Earth. _

My mind felt foggy as I was dropped from the Chitauri ship onto the suffocating mass of concrete jungles that was New York. I felt overcome by a sense of pain that tore through my entire being and tied it together to form someone - or more like some_thing_ \- that was not me. I felt what I believed to be my true self trying to claw its way out of the claustrophobic shell of hatred that encased itself around my soul, but the dull edge of my true emotion could not sever through the chords that had been woven into the very fabric of my being and tethered me to the core of my suffering. My mind - my _real_ mind - was fighting a hopeless battle within me, and as soon as I started to get the upper hand, and my thoughts seemed to finally become my own, the _other_ version took over, it's incessant voice pounding in my skull:

_Focus! You're on Earth. Get the Tesseract. Now._

For a few seconds here and there, I was able to free myself from the grasp of this madness, but it never lasted long.

_Snap OUT of it! Focus on the mission. Obey. Your. King. NOW._

_Stupid, worthless runt. You cannot even do a simple task for the reward of a KINGDOM. _

_Pathetic. And they call you a God?_

_Just bring me the object, Jotunn._

The madness swelled inside me, squeezing the air out of my lungs, compressing my heart until I collapsed against a wall in a side alley. I felt content that I was concealed amongst the hustle and bustle of city life, and the ants that crawled around were about as observant as the Allfather in terms of. . . Me... I gulped down the agonizing truth that had escaped my insanity, though it quickly took over, snatched away the thought and sealed it away along with the other truths that would do well to be forgotten.

**_ENOUGH! You have stalled for long enough! Get. Me. What. I. Seek. Or you shall pay with your insolent LIFE!_**

The booming voice seemed to shatter my paper thin resistance to this madness, and the tremors from the sound in my skull shook every bone in my body. I clutched my hair, pulling hard at the greasy, unkempt mess that was still sickly sticky with blood from my torture. I relentlessly yanked the ebony strands, in an attempt to silence the madman's ravings in my mind with pain. A dull ache resonated in my skull, and warmth was flowing from my head and surrounding my mind with a suffocating dizziness. Unsatisfied with the result, I clawed at my scalp with dirty, jagged fingernails, drawing blood from the thin gashes. I pulled even harder on my hair, removing tufts and discarding the bloodied clumps on the ground. The raving simply continued, louder and louder, the gravelly voice still cutting through the entangled mess of the situation. The threats and insults getting harsher and more frequent.

I yelled into the sky. At my tormentor, at the Allfather, at Thor, at all of creation. They let me suffer. They _refused _to give me a life of happiness, and yet they _refused _to give me the sweet solace if death. Why must they subject me to eternal torment? I yelled incomprehensible slurs, giving way to more and more insanity. My lungs burned from lack of air, and my eyes burned from a lack of relief from this madness.

When my voice was too hoarse to make another sound, I stabbed at my throat with my fingers, and choked out a few measly breathes. Transparent pearls streaked along my face, turning red as they rolled down my neck. I threw myself against the brick walls of the alleyway again and again, painting then with disturbing shades of red. The splatters oozed down the wall, as if eyeing me from where it was falling. With some of my last remaining strength, I picked up a shard of broken glass, and cut ugly, deep lines into young scars. And as my vision faded to black, I crawled up to the nearest slab of stone outside the alley, and smiled at the realisation that the voice had fallen silent.


End file.
